


A Tale as Old as Time (In a Galaxy Far, Far Away)

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, F/F, Hux is a little shit, It's a fucking Beauty and the Beast AU, M/M, Slow(ish) Burn, fuck gaston gaston doesn't need to be in this story, i couldn't bring myself to make General Leia Organa a teapot, it's crack, it's going to be explicit because disney porn why the hell not, minor brendol hux being a dick, ren is not emotionally stable, so the enchantment is a little different
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6725140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unseen, many pairs of eyes followed him. Unheard, many voices exclaimed in hushed whispers “There’s a man in the castle!”</p><p>(It's a Beauty and the Beast AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck it's 12:21 am, I haven't slept in like two days, and I haven't published fic in so long that I need to put out something or never write again. this idea's been in my head forever so take this unbeta'd garbage. I don't own Star Wars.

_It was his fifteenth birthday, and there was blood on his hands. There was blood in his hair, pooling at his feet. He could taste it on his lips, on his tongue. There was flesh between his teeth and under his fingernails. He was afraid, because the bodies of his friends lay broken at his feet. And he had put them there._

_And he had_ liked _it._

_He heard a sob and looked up through the congealed mass of his hair. His mother had combed it this morning, gentle as she coaxed out the tangles. He still cried if his hair was pulled to hard. His mother was looking at him now, dark eyes wide, afraid. His mother was afraid of him._

_“Mom…”_

_“Get AWAY from her.”_

_His father, hair going gray, standing between him and his mother. His father, who loved the sky and told him stories about falcons and taught him to listen to the wind. His father, staring at him like he was a monster._

_They were all staring at him like he was a monster. Those left. Those bleeding but still alive. Those spared only because the demon clawing wickedly into his mind grew bored._

_There was laughter, and he thought it was coming from him. His mouth was open and spilling words that made his ears bleed and he screamed and screamed and the marble of the ballroom floor was cold and slick as he collapsed down into darkness._

***

Hux was sick of people staring at him. They watched and they whispered behind their hands, as if he was the odd one for reading a damned book instead of rolling around in the mud with the pigs. Once again he cursed the doctor who had suggested Brendol Hux move to the countryside, claiming that low stress and clean air might do the aging general some good. His father’s persistent hacking cough _had_ been getting better, but Hux wondered if it was really worth calling him out of the academy when all he was expected to do was move furniture when it blocked his father’s view of the flower covered hill the cottage rested on.

Cottage. Flower covered hill. Perhaps Brendol Hux was getting soft and sentimental in his old age, but his son had been months from graduating at the top of his class and now he was here, trapped with pollen that made his nose itch and sun that made his skin red and villagers who couldn’t keep their conversations to an appropriate fucking noise level.

“Rather handsome-”

“Beautiful, more like-”

“Hair like strawberries-”

“Shame-”

“Too skinny-”

“Honestly, how will he help his father like that-”

_“I’d like to bend him over and-”_

He whirled, snapping his book shut inches from the bulbous nose of the startled, ruddy face of the man who had spoken. “And _what,_ pray tell?”

The man, he didn’t deserve a name, was big and brawny and stank of tobacco, ale, and gunpowder. He leered. “Oh, par’on me, yer _majes’y_. The way ya walk, I thou’ fer _sure_ you wanted ta ge’ yerself a nice, long, _hard_ -”

Elbow to the throat, knee to the groin, heel smashing all the little bones in the feet. The man fell to the ground, whimpering. Hux didn’t so much as spare him a glance as he marched home.

Once he had a battalion of his own, he was burning this place to the ground. When his father told him that night that he was going a few towns over to see a doctor, and didn’t need Hux to accompany him, he welcomed the precious solitude.

***

It was only when the butcher asked Hux how his father was doing three days later that he realized that the bastard had been gone far longer than he really should’ve been for a simple check-up. Hux was profoundly irritated as he was forced to abandon his books and a half-written essay on the military strategies of ancient Rome to wander out into the wilderness. He half-hoped the old man had died on the road.

Even so, it was with slight trepidation that, several miles from town, he discovered blood, wolf tracks, and his father’s scarf. As he stepped off of the well-beaten track he slipped the strap of the hunting rifle he’d brought along off of his shoulder, finger hovering over the trigger. He walked, so focused on the tracks and preparing himself to be attacked by a wild beast that he didn’t notice the wrought iron gate until it was inches from his face.

He blinked, looked up, and barely resisted the urge to gasp. The ruins of a castle sat on the other side of the fence. It looked like it had once been beautiful, but now it exuded menace. As Hux clambered over the fence (as a smear of blood indicated his father had done) he wondered why he had never heard of this place before. How could anyone miss it?

The large, oaken doors of the castle opened noiselessly, without any sort of resistance, as Hux walked into the large entryway.

_(Unseen, many pairs of eyes followed him. Unheard, many voices exclaimed in hushed whispers “There’s a man in the castle!”)_

At the end of the trail of blood was a dungeon, and in that dungeon lay his father. Brendol clutched his side, from which blood oozed sluggishly.

“What the fuck took you so long?” He laughed. It was not a nice sound.

Hux shrugged. “I was reading.”

“You and your damn books.”

“This castle is inhabited, I suppose? Or did you lock yourself in a dungeon for fun?”

Brendol jerked his chin to a point behind Hux, who sighed. He began talking even as he turned to face his soon-to-be captor. “If I’m getting locked up too, can I stay in a different cell, he and I-”

He paused. The figure behind him was enormous, unnaturally still and shrouded in black. From beneath a deep cowl, metal gleamed dully. Slowly, the hood was lowered, baring an insect-like head. For one mad moment, Hux reeled away, sure that he had encountered some horrible beast. Then, the fear fell away.

“Huh.” He tilted his head. “That’s an ugly ass helmet.” He rose his rifle and fired.

The man- for surely he was only a man, albeit a tall one- raised his gloved hand in a blur and Hux watched, terrified and disbelieving, as the bullet froze in midair. The helmeted head turned to him and Hux’s gun was yanked out of his hand by an invisible force.

The man stepped aside and lowered his hand. The bullet continued its interrupted journey and lodged itself into the far wall.

“You are trespassing,” an unearthly voice murmured.

Hux’s heart was pounding. _Magic isn’t real,_ the logical part of his mind said. _Then what the fuck was that?_ asked the scared witless part. “The door was unlocked,” he said with a shrug. “I figured no one lived here.” He would not show this man that he was afraid.

“You were wrong.”

“Yes, I see that now. I also see that you’ve put my aging father, who appears to be bleeding to death, in this dungeon.”

“He was also trespassing.”

Hux snorted. “Castle in the middle of nowhere, horrible looking helmet mask, out of proportion anger about trespassing. Now, tell me if I’m overreaching, but I’m getting the sense you don’t much like socializing.”

The man growled. Something about the sound set off a rodent-like, primordial fear inside of Hux. “I am not particularly fond of jokes either.”

“I’m not joking, I’m trying to figure out a mutually beneficial solution to this problem.” First in all of his diplomacy classes, and all Hux could do was come up with gimmicky one liners? “How about… you let me and dear old dad here go, and you don’t have to listen to me talking anymore?”

“Killing you both would have the exact same result.”

“Ah, but if you kill me, my friends from the village will come looking for me, and you’ll have enough more trespassers.” Hux lied smoothly.

“I’ll kill them too.”

Alright, so there was no way to reason with this man. Great.

“How about you just kill my dad, and let me go?”

Brendol, barely clinging to consciousness, emitted a weak sound of protest.

“He is close to death as it is.”

“Well then, if you let him go then you don’t have to worry about him blabbing your location to the public, as he’ll most likely die on the journey back. He’s already pretty sick.”

It was hard to tell with the helmet, but it looked like the man was considering Hux’s proposal.

“...Alright.”

Hux beamed. “You’ll let us go?”

The man shook his head. “No, I’m letting him go, you’re staring here.”

Hux’s stomach dropped to the floor. Brendol’s mocking laugh quickly disintegrated into a hacking, bloody cough.

The man made a motion with his hand and, like a puppet on strings, Brendol rose to his feet and marched himself out of the castle, coughing now becoming terrified shrieks. As Hux stared at the blankness of the man’s helmet, he envied his father.

The man turned to leave and Hux managed to ask in a voice the only shook the smallest amount, “Will you kill me now?”

“No. I think you will stay alive for now.”

“Why?”

“Because I decided to let you live.” Under the inhuman echoing of the man’s voice there was a… petulance. Like a small child frustrated about having to repeat the rules of the game to a stupid peer. The man moved again to leave then stopped.

_(Unseen, unheard by Hux, a girl’s voice murmured “if you’re not going to kill him, can’t you at least give him a room with a bed?”)_

“Be quiet!”

Hux jumped. “I didn’t-”

The man waved his words aside. “You will follow me.” Another mostly hidden tone, this time a sullen, begrudging acceptance.

“Where?”

“Do you want to sleep in the dungeons?” the man snapped.

Hux decidedly did not want to sleep in the dungeons, so he followed the man through winding hallways to a large door in what he thought was likely once a rather grand guest residence hallway.

“This is your room. Do not leave without my permission.”

The door was thrown open and Hux was pushed inside roughly. The door slammed shut and he was cast into complete darkness.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the point where if you want an Exactly True To The Disney Movie au you should probably stop reading. 
> 
> Un-beta'd. Written while exhausted. I'm not that happy with it but I hope you'll like it...
> 
> I'm graduating Friday so hopefully once summer starts I'll start a regular posting schedule.

Hux stared around at the blackness of the room, trying to get his bearings. It was cool, the air was dry, the echoing sound of skin slapping skin and moans suggested the room was very large, and there was a faint scent of dust that tickled his no-

 

Wait.

 

…  

 

There were, unmistakably, people having sex in his new room. He stood there, shocked, mouth hanging open, completely flabbergasted.

 

_“Oh fuck baby, fuck, right there…”_

 

_“Fuck, I’m close.”_

 

_“Finn!”_

 

_“Poe!”_

 

“EXCUSE ME!” Hux bellowed, unable to take it for a moment longer.

 

There was the distinct sound of two people caught in the act trying to be as still and silent as possible. Hux pushed into the room, cursing the complete lack of light.

 

_“...Who are you?”_

 

“I’m Hux. I’m a prisoner. Is there any bloody _light_ in this dump?”

 

_“A prisoner!”_

 

Suddenly a gentle glow filled the room, illuminating luxurious (if dusty) furniture and a small painting of a candlelit room where two beautiful, naked men lounged on a large bed, barely made decent by draping sheets.

 

It took a moment for Hux to realize that:

  1. This was not the usual subject material of anything not sold in back rooms of shoddy curio shops
  2. The light seemed to be emitting from the painting itself and
  3. The men were moving, sitting up to study him. For a moment, he convinced himself that it was a window, then his depth perception righted itself and he realized that the men were only five inches tall.



 

His hands barely clapped over his mouth in time to contain his scream as he stared, horrified, at the tiny, perfectly contained universe.

 

“Whoa! Hey, it’s okay,” the image of the man with cascading black curls forming a halo around his face cried, holding out his hands. “Please don’t be sick, you look like you’re about to be sick.”

 

“What the _fuck_ are you?” Hux demanded of what was obviously a stress caused hallucination.

 

The man frowned. “Now, that’s just plain rude. I am Poe Dameron and this-” he gestured to the sweet looking man who sat next to him, “-is my lovely companion, Finn.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Hux said on reflex, still gaping at him.

 

“Likewise,” the image- Poe- said with a smile that would make anyone’s stomach flip. “Prisoner, you said?”

 

“I came looking for my father, there was blood, he hadn’t been home for days…” He sighed. “I think that that… that man, that _thing_ might have killed him.

 

Finn cooed, sitting up, painted blanket falling dangerously low. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

 

Hux shrugged. “He wasn’t going to last the night as it was, but now _I’m_ trapped here, with a monster and a talking painting.”

 

Both men’s faces fell. “Well…” hazarded Poe. “At least you’re not dead?”

 

Hux snorted. “There is that.”

 

He watched as the tiny painted men grabbed tiny painted clothes and pulled them over tiny painted genitals. It was bizarre; his head ached.

 

Poe laughed nervously once he was dressed, settling back into an armchair. “You think, ‘yes, I’ve finally found a nice secluded room in which to have some much needed uninterrupted time with my lover’, then BAM! Your boss tosses a redhead into the room. It sounds like the setup for a bad joke.”

 

“That thing is your boss?”

 

“Lord Ren? Yes, I feel like that’s the easiest way of putting it. Sounds better than ‘former boss who went on a murder spree, cursed everyone who remained, and lets me live only because I stay quiet and stick to the corners when he walks by.”

 

Lord Ren. That was his captor’s name. He wasn’t sure if knowing that the creature that could stop a bullet had a name made him feel better or worse.

 

He had so many questions. He settled on the least worrying one. “You’re alive?”

 

Poe shrugged. “I think so. I know it someone slashes through the canvas my body’s painted on I will stop moving, speaking, and become two dimensional, and that I was having some great sex before you showed up, so I’m pretty firmly in the ‘still alive’ camp.”

 

“Murder spree? Curse?”

 

Finn and Poe shot up, looking at the frozen painted clock. “Oh no, look at the time, we had to do… stuff… Bye!”

 

The tiny men ran to the side of the painting and disappeared from view. As soon as they were gone the light vanished, like the painting lost it’s magic when unoccupied.

 

Hux blinked in the blackness, looking around in a daze. He must have hit his head, or gone mad, to have such an odd hallucination. Moving paintings. Bizarre.

 

He felt his way to the bed and dropped into it. He’d deal with his head injury tomorrow. Right now he was tired and alone and it was horribly cold in this room now that he wasn’t focusing on imaginary nude men. He crawled under the covers, not even removing his boots, and was asleep in seconds.

 

***

 

“Excuse me, sir.”

 

Hux, mostly asleep, groaned and buried himself deeper in his blanket nest. “Jus’ five more minutes, Phas.”

 

“I am sorry sir, but my name is Threepio, not ‘Phas’.”

 

“Wha…” Slowly a tuft of orange fluff rose from under the blankets. The bed he laid in was much bigger than his cot at the academy, and it was colder. The voice was high and male, completely unlike Phasma’s morning gruffness.

 

He slowly blinked open his eyes and…

 

“FUCK! FUCK SHIT DAMNIT! WHAT THE HELL.”

 

The tiny man in the painting dressed in gold livery blinked, turning rather green. “P-pardon me sir, but must you speak so-”

 

Hux burst out of bed, ending up with his nose practically rubbing the canvas which contained another fucking hallucination. “I’LL SPEAK HOWEVER I FUCKING WELL LIKE, TINY MAN. SO FUCK YOU.”

 

The man- Threepio, was it?- quailed, whimpering, but Hux was fucking done. The sun had barely risen and he was Done.

 

He was about to put his fist through the canvas when a girl’s voice murmured. “Shh, Threepio. I’ve got this. I think someone is playing chess in the south wing, how about you go check that out?” Threepio scurried out of the frame and was replaced by a petite girl with wide, intelligent eyes.

 

“Hello,” said the girl. “Would you mind calming down? You’re scaring the staff.”

 

“Who the fuck are you?” Huc demanded.

 

“Princess Rey Skywalker, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, mister…”

 

“Hux,” he answered numbly. “Your highness,” he added, bowing. Even hallucinated royalty had to be shown the proper respect.

 

The princess smiled. “Oh none of that. I’m made of oil paint, there’s no need to treat me like anything important. Just Rey.”

 

“Rey,” he repeated, giving his most dashing impress-the-ladies-to-rise-up-the-social-ladder smile.

 

Rey rolled her eyes. “Ew, none of that either. My girl Jess could break you in half if she wanted.”

 

Oh. He blinked. Welp, that was that.

 

Rey snorted at his expression and jerked her head. “Enough with that, come on. You must be starving.”

 

His stomach made an embarrassing sound in agreement, but he hung back. “I can’t.” Lord Ren had directly ordered him to stay. Hux wasn’t too prideful to admit that the man terrified him.

 

Rey shrugged. “He won’t ever know. It’s not like he ever leaves his room.”

 

Hux’s stomach rumbled again and Rey sighed. “I can’t bring anything to you, if you want to eat you need to go to the kitchen yourself. I’ll be in the hallway.” She disappeared out of the frame in the blink of an eye. Hux considered his options. Food won out.

 

He stepped out into the hallway and started when he saw Rey, now a foot taller, leaning against the frame of a new painting. She pointed in the direction she was heading and walked out of sight, reappearing in a picture down the hall.

 

In this way she lead him to the door of the kitchens, grinning. “Can’t go in there, no frames. I’ll be waiting out here in case you need a guide back to your room.”

 

Hux’s head was spinning, but he made it into the kitchen. Inside, food was sparse, some tea leaves and root vegetables, but it was edible, so he set the kettle and a pot of water on the stove. Tea and boiled vegetables. Honestly, it wasn’t much worse than his first year at the academy.

 

He was halfway through his bland meal when a door in the back of the room banged open and the wind outside blew dirt and leaves onto the stone floor. Hux sat, frozen, as the hulking, hooded figure of Lord Ren appeared in the doorway, dragging along a dead doe. To late, Hux stood to make his escape, but the masked head was already turning in his direction.

  
He was dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to update this as often as I can, but my life went to shit this last few weeks so...


End file.
